


A New Life

by espioc



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Crack Fic, Dramedy, Humor, Jealousy, Mechpreg, New Cybertron, OoC at times, Slow Burn, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, bitter Starscream, one mature rated sex scene, poor communication, thats it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espioc/pseuds/espioc
Summary: Starscream moves to New Cybertron for a chance at a new start. After an unexpected one-night-stand with one of his least favorite people, he ends up with a different type of new life. He and Thunderclash must navigate politics, and each other, to make this relationship work.
Relationships: Starscream/Thunderclash
Comments: 16
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Who the hell know where this came from. 
> 
> (The sex scene in the first chapter is semi-explicit, but it's the only one, so I wasn't sure what to rate it.)

The planet was grey.

But that detail could be easily ignored. That could be worked with. As long as there was a berth for him, Starscream was going to make the best of a neutral situation. Though he had to admit the spectacular planet he saw in the pamphlets was falsely advertised.

New Cybertron was just that. New. He arrived on the second refugee shuttle to touch down. Documents in hand, a bag on his back, he was there for the same reasons everyone else was.

A fresh start.

Maybe a new name, but probably not. That was an option, as soon as mechs arrived they had the option to change everything about them. From their frame, to their name, to their eye color. Starscream was all good in that department, he'd changed back to his red frame just before leaving. The mech at the desk checked him into the planet and gave him the key card to his new apartment. After getting a job Starscream could update his living situation, but for now he was given a place to live.

Couples got a two bedroom apartment, single people got one room.

The streets weren't scarce, per-sey, new businesses popped up everyday. But this planet was so strange compared to the Original Cybertron. This planet had fewer cities, more metal fauna springing from the ground, but the buildings were far apart, and there weren't nearly as many of them. There was a sun, crystal gardens, brightly painted buildings.

The city was small, but it was fine enough. In a few years the planet would be reasonably packed, and everything would feel less plain and barren and in-the-middle-of-nowhere.

As Starscream got further into the city, the buildings got close together. The streets were still clean, that was a surprise. He found his apartment building, was checked at the door to make sure he belonged there, then went inside.

The apartment was small, but clean. It entered directly into the tiny kitchen, just beside that was the living room, the next room was the bedroom, with the only washroom. The space came already furnished with a couch, vid-screen, chair, and a small kitchen table. Starscream hoped there was a berth in the bedroom. The journey there had been a solid 18 hours, and he had been surrounded by snoring mechs and sticky, screaming, sparklings.

As soon as Starscream got inside he dropped his bag and went to bed. The apartment was cooled, the planet was hot. Starscream’s cooling systems weren’t enough to keep him at a comfortable temperature. Whoever thought to put a metal planet next to a star should be shot. Apparently the government was working on the temperature controls of the cities, but progress had been little in the short fifty years this had been a viable colony.

It was a surprise anyone stayed, considering.

Starscream took a three hour long nap. He could have stayed in bed for the rest of his life. New Cybertron made itself out to be a utopia. All of the essentials were provided: health care, fuel, housing, all of that. But leisure had to be paid for: Goodies, games, high-grade, social activities. So if Starscream didn’t want to be a lonely shut-in, he would have to get a job. Make some money to buy some high-grade.

Then he could be an alcoholic shut-in.

Starscream rolled onto his back and pressed the tips of his fingers into his forehead. A part of him suddenly began to wonder if this was the right decision for him.

Technically, it had been. The planet he came from hated him. There was no place for him anymore. This was the best option.

If not the only one.

On Cybertron Starscream couldn't find a job, he couldn't find a therapist, he could barely find a friend. The only friend he had encouraged him to move, get a new start, a fresh face.

The phone in Starscream's subspace started to vibrate. He picked it up after one ring.

"Ruler of Cybertron."

Wheeljack chuckled. "Don't go pickin' up old habits."

"How'd you know I was off the ship."

"I know how long it takes."

"You'll come and visit me, right?"

"A'course. Probably not for a while."

"This place is a shit hole. There's nothing here."

"It'll get better."

Starscream closed his eyes and sighed. "Why'd you call?"

"I wanted to see how you were settling in."

"I just got here."

"You should have a drink."

"I would."

"There might not be much, but there is a bar."

"Hopefully it's close." Starscream stood up. "I'm fucking starving." He muttered, shuffling into the living room. "The fuel on the ship was terrible. There were bits in it, I wanted to puke."

"Gross."

"Uh-huh," Starscream made himself a cube at the dispenser. "So, what are you up to?"

"Working. Nothing new."

"Boring."

"I am very exciting. I blew myself up yesterday."

"What time is it there?"

"It's night."

Starscream looked out the window. "It looks like sunset. So we're not too far off from each other."

"I think you're in yesterday though."

Starscream rubbed his face with the ball of his palm. "I hate space travel time shit."

Wheeljack chuckled. "It is weird. But we're not that far from each other."

"Only an 18 hour jump away."

"Think you'll ever come back."

"Maybe. If I ever make enough money for a transport."

"I hear they pay well on New Cybertron."

Someone knocked on Starscream's door.

"I haven't heard anything." Starscream looked through the peep-hole and found a white, eagle clad chest with an Autobot symbol. "Hey, do you know any Autobots with a blue eagle looking thing in their chest?"

"Uh, yeah. Is the rest white?"

"Yeah."

"That's Thunderclash. Why?"

"That's who?"

"He was a guy. Kind of a big deal. Very, very, good looking. Why?"

Starscream smirked. “Why do you know what his chest looks like?”

“Don’t ask me that.”

Starscream snickered to himself.

Wheeljack said. ‘Why are you asking?”

“Because he’s standing outside my door.”

Thunderclash knocked again.

“I’m going to open it. Stay on the line.”

Starscream fixed his expression to neutral and opened the door. He was met with a bot who had what must have been the worst color scheme he’d ever seen, but a handsome face to make up for it.

Starscream sized him up. “What do you want?”

“Greetings new citizen of New Cybertron. I am Thunderclash and I am here to welcome you to the planet.”

“Oh.”

They stood there for a minute in silence.

“Is that all?” Starscream asked.

“New Cybertron wants to make all of its new residents feel welcome. I trust you read the pamphlet.”

“I read the whole thing. The pictures were very compelling, and very false.”

“We’re working on that.”

“Do you need something?”

“I’m here to give you something and welcome you to the planet.”

“You’re not doing a very good job of it.”

On the phone, Wheeljack said. “Be nice.”

Starscream shushed him.

“Did I interrupt something?” Thunderclash asked.

“I was just on the phone with a friend.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt.”

“It’s fine. I’m still wondering what you’re doing here. You seem new at this.”

“I am. The Welcome Initiative was new as of last week. Because of the sudden influx of refugees we thought it best to make them feel welcome. Every apartment complex was assigned a Greeter.”

“So you live in the building. That initiative sounds stupid. There were over a hundred people on the ship with me, you’re going to greet all of them?”

“Not me, personally.”

“I know that. I meant your little committee.”

“There are hundreds of us.”

“You said you had something to give me?”

“Just this,” Thunderclash produced a datapad. “The laws of New Cybertron.”

“Ah, I see,” Starscream accepte the datapad. “So I truly have entered into a cult, like everyone on Cybertron said.”

“The planet is new. It has laws like any other society.”

“I know, it was a joke.”

Thunderclash’s cheeks went purple. “Oh.”

"Well, thanks a lot." Starscr am moved to close the door.

"We encourage new residents to go out." Thunderclash blurted out.

Starscream opened the door. "To?"

"To the parks. The bars. Other things. To make connections. Friends."

"Ah, friends. I had heard of those."

Thunderclash cocked his brow at the joke, but did not laugh.

"Another jest," Starscream smiled. He glanced at the datapad in his hand. "Thanks for the advice, Tunderdash."

"Thunderclash."

"Whatever." Starscream swung the door closed. He replaced the phone in his ear.

"I can't believe you called Thunderclash, The Thunderclash, Tunderdash."

"What's so great about him?"

"He's one of the most noble Autobots who ever lived."

"That's not saying much."

"I know for everyone else it wouldn't be, but this guy is the real deal."

"Uh-huh.”

"Hey, I gotta go. The Almighty Ruler of Cybertron is hailing me."

"Say fuck you for me."

"I will not."

They hung up. Starscream went to the living room and sat down on the couch. He watched the vid-screen for all of five minutes before growing tired of it and turning it off. He switched to his phone. His operating system had automatically switched to New Cybertron’s interface as soon as he arrived on the planet.

The internet was updated to include all of the leisurely places and job listings on New Cybertron. Starscream began calling the planet Neutron in his head.

There was an opening at a factory on the edge of the city. Almost anyone who applied got the job, or so it said in the description. There was also an opening as a file clerk at the Welcome Office, where they processed and welcomed all of the refugees to Neutron.

Not everyone who came from Cybertron was a "refugee" exactly. Though most of them did come to escape the hardships of Cybertron, the overpopulation, the lack of resources, the unpredictable weather and wild, seemingly sentient wilderness. There was also the new-found functionist party which was giving Windblade trouble, though she did little to nothing about it, and in Starscream's opinion, her rhetoric only fueled their hate.

Most of the people who went to Neutron were Decepticons or Nails. The Autobots had finally, truly, won the planet.

There were other people from other places who came to Neutron. Bots from the colonies, bots from other sentient mechanical world's, and even some organic creatures who matched the Cybertronians in size.

This obviously invited issues, but it seemed, so far, that everyone wanted the same thing. As far as Starscream knew, the planet had a cap. As soon as the population hit a certain point, nonone else was allowed to enter. Not unless there was an exile. There were no real prisons on Neutron. For serious crimes, like murder or rape, or some other variation of a serious crime, the perpetrator would be exiled. End of story.

The population cap did not seem forthcoming.

Starscream applied for the job as a file clerk. Desk work was fine, being away from a lot of people was better. He applied for the job and got a response fifteen minutes later, asking for an interview an hour later, which he went to after a quick shower.

The interview was quick and casual.

"Can you read Cybertronian?"

"Yes."

"Can you download language files?"

"Yes."

"Do you have at least one fully functional hand?"

"Yes."

"And you can use a computer?"

"Yes "

"Great. You're hired."

And Starscream started training that day, much to his displeasure. Fortunately it was only the training. Payment was 20 shanix an hour, 25 hours a week. More than enough to pay for leisure.

The training was only four hours. Afterwards he was immediately wired payment to a bank account that had been activated upon his arrival.

As soon as Starscream got paid he went to a sweet shop and bought himself some goodies. The sweet shop was a block from his building, so he opened up the box and started eating on the way home. When he opened the door to the apartment building he ran right into a white chest with a blue eagle. He would have fallen on his ass if Thunderclash hadn't grabbed him by the wrist and kept him upright.

Unfortunately Thunderclash was not able to save Starscream's goodies, which spilled helplessly onto the sidewalk.

Starscream groaned, staring at the fallen treats.

A set of bright red optics blinked down at him. "Are you alright?"

Starscream scowled and tugged his wrist out of Thunderclash's loose grip. "No."

"I apologize."

"For what? I ran into you." Starscream bent over and started picking up his treats into the box. Thunderclash took a knee to help him.

"I'll buy you a new box," Thunderclash offered.

"Why?"

They stood up together. "As a courtesy."

Starscream clutched the box of ruined goodies to his chest and narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"You seem the skeptical sort."

Starscream brushed past him. "You're very weird."

Thunderclash seemed to flinch at that. Starscream continued on his course. He scurried through the door, up the stairs, to his apartment. He threw the treats into the garbage and returned to the couch.

He mindlessly watched a program and scrolled on his phone until the sun went down, and it felt like an appropriate time to go to bed.

* * *

Starscream quickly grew indifferent to his job. He got up, went to work, worked for five hours, then went home. There was nothing special, or new, or fulfilling about it. There was nothing special or new or fulfilling about the planet as a whole.

Three weeks in, Starscream was beginning to consider, more seriously than before, that this had been a mistake. A part of him missed the graffiti on his door and being shouted at in the streets by strangers, at least that was something. Maybe a negative something, but it was still action. This planet had nothing. Nothing good. Nothing bad.

Just neutral.

Boring. Boring. Neutral.

As Starscream sat on his couch thinking about this, he also began to think about the minimal amount of effort he'd put into making this new life anything special. He hadn't had a drink, he hadn't taken part in any of the leisurely activities available on planet. He began to think that maybe he was the problem.

Starscream sat up and turned the vid-screen off. He took a shower, put on a small amount of polish in the most pleasing areas, and went down the street for a couple of drinks.

Drinking alone was not necessarily an improvement, but at least he wasn't drinking alone at home watching TV. Sometimes people drank alone and it wasn't pitiful.

The bar was dimly lit with little red lights hanging around the top edge of the walls. The hue was warm and pleasant, with little to no dark corners to hide in. For the first time in what felt like forever no one looked at Starscream when he came in. They all sat undisturbed, sipping their drinks and chatting with their friends or random people at the bar.

Almost as soon as Starscream entered, he found the last person he wanted to see sitting in a corner booth surrounded by other mechs. Among them, he was the largest.

Thunderclash wasn't a bad bot, certainly not by Starscream's low standards. But he was annoying. He was persistent, and Starscream had a good guess as to why.

Thunderclash was the type of bot everyone loved. He could win the hearts of Autobots and Decepticons alike. He was a peace-maker and a peacekeeper, and he wasn't used to having someone think of him as any less than he made himself out to be. Or, at least, what others made him out to be. The Autobots, even those who no longer wore the badge, admired Thunderclash and looked up to him. They regarded him with more respect than even Optimus Prime, and used him as an example for what a hero looked like.

Starscream didn’t see it.

Thunderclash might have won the spirits of many a lowly Decepticon, but he had done little to endear himself to Starscream. All he had done was get Starscream a box of goodies to make up for the one he’d lost, and knocked on Starscream’s door every other day in an attempt to encourage him to take part in leisurely activities.

As Starscream sat down at the bar he began to regret choosing this as his watering hole. Of course Thundeclash was here. His job was to create relations and make friends, of course he was at the bar.

Starscream told himself he would have two drinks then return home and go to bed. It was the weekend, he had no obligations, as much as he wanted to get wrecked and wake up with a hangover the next morning, tonight was not that night. Not with Thunderclash breathing down his neck from fifteen feet away.

Starscream did not hate him.

Only, in part, because Starscream didn’t have the energy anymore to hate anyone. (Besides one particularly ugly, old, bucket-headed, former-warlord.) And even that Starscream didn’t think about as often as he used to.

He just found Thunderclash infuriating in the way he found most self-important Autobots infuriating. Doing good made him feel good, so he did it, and that was the only reason why. Not any of the noble, selfless reasons the Autobots had been spoon-fed.

Starscream opened a tab and ordered his first drink. Something that tasted sweet and came in a tall glass with an energon cherry on the top. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and began poking the ice further into the glass with it.

He worked slowly at the drink, taking steady, small sips at a time between checking his phone and getting lost in his thoughts. At one point, while he was staring at some of the more obscure decorations above the bar, a large bot took his seat on the stool just beside Strarscream’s. At first Starscream ignored it, passing it off as someone who didn’t get the one-stool-away rule.

But then he heard the voice.

“I knew I would get through to you.”

Starscream sneered, immediately recognizing the smile in that tone. He poked at the ice in the bottom of his glass. “You take a lot of pride in things you had nothing to do with.”

“I’m sorry to have assumed. Let me buy you a drink.”

“No thank you.”

“Alright.”

When the bar-tender came around Starscream pushed his glass forward. “Another one, please.”

Thunderclash put his hand between the bartender and the glass. “Put it on my tab.”

Starscream’s wing twitched. He threw a glare at the side of Thundeclash’s stupid smirking head.

“Bartender,” Starscream called. “Don’t do that. Put it on my tab.”

The bartender shrugged. “It’s going on his.”

Of course it was, because Thundeclash had absolutely every bot in this town wrapped around his stupid finger. Starscream didn’t bother with the second drink, he threw his shanix on the bar and hissed at Thunderclash. “You fucking drink it, then,” and stormed out.

Barely ten feet from the door, Starscream heard the obnoxious indecent voice calling his name.

“Starscream, wait!”

Starscream didn’t want to wait. He walked faster. Thunderclash caught up with him, but stayed a safe distance behind.

“I meant no disrespect-”

Starscream whipped around. “Oh will you shut up already!” He screeched. “Is it not super obvious to you that I want you to leave me alone? Do I have to spell it out? I don’t like you! I would like it very much if you would go away!”

Thunderclash’s outstretched hand pulled in. His expression dropped, his eyes going wide.

Starscream huffed and went home, leaving Thundeclash alone on the sidewalk.

All Starscream wanted was two drinks. Two drinks! Was that so much to ask? As soon as he got home he considered requesting to move cities. But Starscream was pettier than that, and had too much pride to let one insufferable Autobot drive him out.

Starscream only slept well that night because the drink in his system pulled him to sleep. The irritation he felt still tickled across his plating, even as he was falling blissfully to sleep.

* * *

Thunderclash did not harass Starscream for three weeks after the incident at the bar. Every time they saw each other, Starscream turned his nose up and snubbed him. Thunderclash never tried to initiate conversation. Even after Starscream nearly walked into him for a second time, Starscream only growled in frustration and brushed past, not even sparing his face a glance.

On the last day of the third week with no incidents, Starscream returned to the bar. Had he more energy, or more motivation, he would have gone to a different bar. But this one was close and he just wanted two drinks before bed.

Thunderclash was there as well, but he was looking more somber than usual.

Starscream scoffed and took a seat at the bar. He went through his first drink slowly, taking in the multiple, inexplicable, unidentifiable decorations on the bar walls. He was halfway done with his first drink when Thunderclash came over and sat next to him.

Thunderclash ordered some plain high-grade. When it arrived he did not return to the booth with the bots he had been with. Starscream felt a tension in his neck, tempting him to look behind him and see if any of those bots were still there.

He resisted and continued to drink undisturbed.

Thunderclash took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I’ve been bothersome lately.”

“All the time,” Starscream said before he could stop himself.

“But I am trying to make your experience a good one.”

“You’re doing a terrible job at it.”

“Then tell me what I can do.”

“I already did. You can leave me alone.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes you can. It’s simple and easy, like infomercial products. You get up, you walk away, and we never have to deal with eachother again.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Oh, for Primus-” he finally looked at Thunderclash. “Are you hard of hearing? Or are you just that full of yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

“I know, you’re ‘the guy’ you’re The Thunderclash, the one the universe looks up to. Well I don’t, alright? And you need to get over it.”

“Is that why you think I do this?”

“Don’t try to hide it, Tunderdash, your vanity is obscenely opaque.”

“I’m afraid you have the wrong idea about me.”

“I know what everyone says-”

“I know what everyone says about you as well.”

Starscream’s wing twitched. He sneered into the edge of his glass. “Yeah, well, you can’t believe everything you hear.” He muttered.

“Exactly my point. So can we try this again?”

Starscream rolled his eyes. “If I hadn’t died a couple dozen times, I might believe you’re more resilient than I am.”

“So would you let me buy you a drink, Starscream?” Thunderclash put on an admittedly charming smile.

Starscream narrowed his eyes. He lifted his brow and slid his empty glass across the bar. “Maybe just one more.”

* * *

Starscream hadn’t done this in- truly he didn’t know how long. And especially not with an Autobot of all people. Thunderclash grunted with every thrust, holding Starscream’s lower back with one hand, and leaning against the wall with the other. Starscream hung on for dear life, both arms wrapped tightly around Thundeclash’s shoulders, etching claw marks into the metal every time a spring of pleasure sparked through his valve, up his spine, to the tips of his wings.

They had both been sufficiently tipsy when they stumbled back to the building, into Thunderclash’s apartment on the top floor. Starscream knew himself to be a variety of drunk, and apparently tonight it had been horny.

This was their sixth go, Thunderclash having already sufficiently filled Starscream’s valve with eight overloads, and given him seven in the process. Thunderclash grunted, rutting forward into his ninth overload, filling Starscream’s valve with it’s ninth serving of warm transfluid.

Starscream bit his lip and leaned his head back. Even in this drunken state, he could feel his valve getting sore. It had been a while, and this was a lot for a valve that hadn’t taken anything in a thousand years, give-or-take.

Thunderclash panted above him. He stationed his elbows on either side of Starscream’s body to keep some of the weight off of him. Their lower halves were still intimately intertwined.

“Do you want to go again?”

Starscream wiggled on his back. “I think I’ve got one more in me.”

Thunderclash nodded. He grunted, sitting back up and reclaiming his former position. Starscream winced when his hips were lifted just so. Thunderclash dipped and kissed Starscream’s neck as he started to thrust. Slow at first, then a bit faster, but never pounding.

If Starscream was being honest with himself, he considered this an accomplishment. One of the Greatest Autobots of All Time coming undone above him, overloading nine times, soon to be ten. Starscream was almost impressed. Either Thunderclash was easy, or Starscream was a very good lay.

Starscream stopped thinking to himself and concentrated on the sensation. The thick spike penetrating his valve, the little nubs all over said spike tickled the valve wall, sending bursts of pleasure through Starscream’s frame. He came first, going stiff and moaning softly, followed soon after by Thunderclash who thrusted deep and stayed there to empty his tenth load into Strascream’s sore, but eager valve.

Thunderclash nearly collapsed that time but caught himself on his elbows. His vents were so loud they were nearly deafening. He panted, resting the side of his head against Starscream’s. When Thunderclash regained his strength he sat up and pulled out. His erect spike bobbed, a trail of transfluid followed the tip.

A thick drop of transfluid spilled out of Starscream’s valve and dripped into the already soaked berth. Starscream sat up on his elbows and flexed the calipers in his valve to watch more of the transfluid drip out. Thunderclash watched it as if he were in a trance.

Starscream leaned forward, putting a smirk on his face and spreading his legs wider. “You like seeing your transfluid in me?” He purred, ticking the edge of Thunderclash’s chin with the edge of his talon. “This pretty valve is all yours for tonight. I like the way your transfluid feels inside me.” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I have a few more in me if you’ll have a few more in me.”

Thunderclash inched forward, his barely parted lips nearly meeting Starscream’s smirk. Thunderclash dove for Starscream’s neck and went down on him again, his hard spike pulsing at the thought of claiming that valve.

Starscream laughed, biting his lip, and clinging on.

Maybe this new planet wouldn’t be so bad afterall.


	2. Chapter 2

Starscream woke up slowly, his legs kicking at the blanket they were tangled in. He stretched out on the berth that was much too wide to be his own. For a moment he nearly forgot where he was, but the ache between his legs brought him right back.

After Starscream’s seventeen overloads, and Thunderclash’s 22, Thunderclash had carried him to the shower to let him wash, changed the sheets, then returned him to the berth, warm, and dry, and wrapped in two big, comforting arms. Starscream couldn’t remember ever being so exhausted, even during the war. And by the way Thunderclash acted, it was obvious that he had at least another 22 overloads in him, which he would have happily given Starscream had Starscream not been falling asleep during their twelfth session.

Starscream smiled to himself. He could not wait to tell Wheeljack. Not a single Autobot alive would believe Starscream if they told them.

Not far into this thought, Starscream’s olfactory picked up an odd smell. He turned his head one way, then the next, and found a small table sitting beside the bed with food and a note sitting on it.

For when you wake up

Thunderclash had impeccable handwriting. Starscream tucked the note in his subspace and scooted the rest of the way to the table, as far as his poor valve would take him. Since arriving Starscream hadn’t eaten any of the human imitation food that Cybertronians had adopted. Breakfast consisted of a cube of energon and two pancakes with sweet syrup.

Starscream thought he’d seen a gesture that was similarly sweet in a human film, though that film hadn’t gone into detail about the couple’s sexual escapades the night before. This was turning out to be the best one-night-stand Starscream had ever had, and he doubted anyone would ever top it.

Starscream took the plate and ate the pancakes above his lap, neglecting the energon until the very end. When he was finished he put the plate back on the table and laid back down. His whole body ached, his mind was tired, his struts were weak. The sex was good, but it had really done a number on him.

Thunderlash came into the room. “You’re awake.”

Starscream didn’t lift his head. “Barely,” he muttered, rolling over.

Thunderclash crawled into the bed. “Do you mind if I want to cuddle?”

Starscream pressed his face into the pillow. “It’s your bed.”

Thunderclash wrapped his arms around Starscream’s frame and pulled them flush together. Starscream was fine with this.

“I apologize if I went a little...overboard last night.”

Starscream puffed a small laugh. “I know something that went overboard.”

“I think overflowed would be the better word.”

Starscream chuckled. “Definitely.” He hummed. “I have to ask.”

“Hm?”

“You consider this a one-night-stand, right?”

Thunderclash took a moment to answer. “I did. Unless…”

“No. That’s what I consider it. I’m looking to be serious with anyone, and, no offense, but you’re probably not the person who I would be serious with.”

“None taken. I understand.”

Starscream cuddled in closer. “I’ll stay for this part, though.”

“It’s probably for the best.”

“Hm?”

“Tomorrow I’m leaving for Cybertron. I’ll be gone about six months.”

“I’d agree with you, then. Wanted to get in one last fuck before you left?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I hadn’t interfaced before this for a couple thousand years.”

Starscream went stiff. “You’re kidding.”

“I am not.”

“And here I thought you were a bot magnet.”

“I am. Many bots lust after me, I know that. But I never take them up on their offers.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“Why me then? Mighty Tunderdash.”

Thunderclash chuckled. “I don’t know. I think I appreciated the fact that you didn’t want to have sex with me because I’m Thunderclash. We were just drunk and in the mood.”

Starscream settled back in. “I guess I can empathise.” He muttered, mostly to himself. If Thunderclash heard he didn’t comment.

They laid together for a couple of hours, Starscream was asleep for most of it. He was only half asleep when the warmth left him and Thunderclash returned to doing his job. Apparently his work was never done, not even on pause for the weekends.

Starscream was welcome to stay in the apartment for as long as he liked, which he did, spending most of his time sleeping. He only took a break to put on a smug grin and give Wheeljack a call.

“Hey, whataya need, I’m about to go into a meeting.” Wheeljack said as soon as he answered.

“Oh, I’ll call you later then. I want time to talk.”

“Oh, is it something serious?”

Starscream bit his lip. “Not bad serious. Just something I feel the urgent need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

Starscream’s grin grew wider. “Guess where I am?”

“Uhh, Cybertron?”

“Nope. Thunderclash’s berth.”

“Thunderclash’s ber-- NO.”

Starscream nodded. “He fucked me to pieces last night.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not.”

“Star, I swear to god-”

“I’m serious. Let me tell you, that mech has a stamina like nothing I've ever seen.”

“You have to be kidding me, you’re pulling my leg.”

Starscream sat up. “I’m not, I swear. You know I don’t lie to you.”

Wheeljack muttered. “Oh my god,” to himself. “Hold on a minute. I’m canceling my meeting. You’re going to tell me everything.”

So Starscream did. He relayed starting at the bar with one more drink that turned into five more, which subsequently led to them being horny and stumbling back to Thunderclash’s apartment where, even while drunk, he was a gentleman while he fucked Starscream’s brains out. He ate Starscream out twice to start, with the most magical mouth no living thing had the right to have. Then proceeded to fill him with 22 overloads until his middle felt tight and he nearly fainted from exhaustion.

“22?” Wheeljack said in disbelief. “22? He came inside you? Thunderclash, The Thunderclash, fucked you fifteen times and came inside you 22 times?”

Starscream nodded. “He had a lot in the reserves, I guess.”

“Oh, Star, aren’t you worried about...ya know. Gettin’- ya know.”

Starscream furrowed his brow. “No. My tank had been dry for a million years. Everything that goes into it immediately dies.”

“Are you sure it’s still the same? I mean, the war is over.”

“I’m positive. I’d be notified if it reactivated. Plus, we never even used our sparks.”

“I don’t know anatomy like a doctor, but I do know that if you get enough transfuid in the gestation the nanites in it will spark the new-spark without having to have spark-to-spark contact between the parents.”

Starscream flapped his hand. “Yeah, but that’s so rare, even with the unholy amount of transfluid he put in me.”

“Still, I think you should have been more careful.”

“You worry too much.”

“Do you have a doctor yet?”

“Yes, they gave me Ratchet as my doctor, can you believe that.”

“Oh, if you get sparked he is gonna have a field day with this one.”

“Stop talking like that, I am not going to get sparked.”

“If you say so.”

"I want you to tell all of your Autobot friends."

"No."

Starscream's smile dropped. "Why not?"

"Because there were two people involved and that sounds like something old you would say."

Starscream flapped his hand. "Old me, new me, they're different, but not that different. I still like rubbing my accomplishments in Autobots’ faces. And sleeping with Thunderclash is quite the accomplishment."

"I think 22 overloads is an accomplishment."

"Fine. Don't tell your Autobot friends."

"I won't."

They went on to talk about the rest of their lives. Starscream's boring job, how insufferable Thunderclash had been in the beginning, yelling at Thunderclash. That one really surprised Wheeljack.

Starscream checked his talons. "He says that's why he fucked me. I can accept that."

"Because you yelled at him?"

"Not exactly. More because I didn't think he was anything special. We were just two horny mechs."

"Who knew your charms could work like that."

"I'm just full of surprises."

"We all knew. I gotta go, though. Talk to ya." Wheeljack hung up.

Starscream let his hand flop to the berth. He took one last, three hour nap, before deciding it was time to go sleep in his own berth.

Thunderclash's apartment was the entire top of the building, so the door led to stairs which went right down into Starscream's hallway. Starscream's door was the first one just beside this stairway. The short ten step journey was enough to further exhaust him, and the ache returned to his valve. Despite having slept all day, Starscream immediately returned to bed, not even bothering to even make himself a cube.

He slept until noon the next day, and even then he didn't want to get up. Apparently Thunderclash's spike was more magical than originally thought. It was still putting Starscream to sleep, even this far after the fact.

By now Thunderclash was gone. For some reason that thought made Starscream feel a touch lonlier than he'd been earlier in the week. Thunderclash might have been slightly insufferable, but he was the only person on the planet Starscream had ever talked to. Well, besides the bartender, but he hardly counted.

Starscream considered going to get a drink in the middle of the afternoon, but decided against it. He wondered what would happen if he went at night. If any of the friends Thunderclash had been with would recognize Starscream as the mech he'd left with a couple nights ago.

Starscream didn't go to the bar. He took a shower, went for a fly, and visited a game shop to get himself a deck of cards that would keep him entertained in the most boring way possible for the rest of the night.

As soon as Starscream went to bed he began to feel cramps in his middle. He threw the blanket off the berth and laid on his stomach and ignored the pain.

* * *

Starscream's days were the same. He got up, showered, refueled, went to work, worked for five hours, then came home and either went to the bar or played cards with himself while he watched TV.

About a month and a half after Thunderclash left Starscream started to feel sick. He threw up in the mornings and felt drowsy all afternoon. At work he couldn't concentrate. He took a couple of sick days to recover and returned in much better condition. Of course, not long after that the symptoms returned. This time he didn't bother to take off work, he just powered through. His boss took notice and sent him home anyway with two day's pay.

As soon as Starscream got home he called Wheeljack. It was late in the evening there, maybe even midnight. But Wheeljack picked up anyway.

"I'm bored, I thought I'd call you." Starscream said.

"You're home early."

"I was feeling sick."

"Again?"

"They sent me home this time. I was just going to deal with it."

"You should go to the doctor."

"It's fine. It's not that bad."

"What else you got goin'?"

"What do you mean."

"You throw up in the morning, you're having a hard time refueling, you're tired all the time, what else?"

Starscream frowned. "I don't know, fever things. I'm so hot all the time, my wings are sore, I don't know, what do you want from me?"

"You should go to the doctor."

"Wheeljack-"

"Go. To. The. Doctor."

Starscream let out a long groan. "Fine," he snapped. "If it's so important to you."

"Now. Like right now. Make the appointment as soon as you hang up-"

Starscream hung up on him. Sometimes his anger still got the better of him. He threw his phone across the room and slumped back into the couch. The phone transformed into a flying bug before it hit the wall, and placed itself on the table back in the shape of a phone.

After brooding for five minutes, Starscream stomped into the kitchen, picked up the phone, and called the doctor. He got an appointment two hours from then.

Starscream didn't bother to clean up. He couldn't find it in himself to care, and he certainly didn't have the energy. Just flying to the doctor's office took everything out of him.

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long.

It had been a while since Starscream had been to a normal doctor's office. He had to see a doctor to go to Neutron, but that had just been a physical and a blood sample to make sure he wasn't carrying cosmic rust or something.

This was different.

Sitting alone in the exam room, hunched over under the white lights, felt scrutinizing. As if he were about to be dissected. He had plenty of time to think about it. Before being left alone a nurse asked for a list of symptoms and the onset. After that he left, and Starscream sat there by himself for ten minutes.

Among the seekers, Starscream did not consider himself severely claustrophobic. But he was beginning to second guess himself, the room he was in felt so small and suffocating.

As soon as Ratchet came in the heavy air lifted.

"Starscream," he greeted, holding a datapad in his hand.

"Auto-" Starscream caught himself. "Doctor."

"Old habits." Ratchet examined the datapad in his hand. "So you've been feeling sick. Is most of the nausea in the morning?"

"I throw up in the morning, but I feel sick all day."

Ratchet nodded. "Frame fatigue?"

"Just my wings."

"Any other pains?"

Starscream purses his lip. "Not really. My lower back, I guess."

"Any temperature fluctuation?"

"I've been overheating a lot."

"Difficulty refueling, but always hungry?"

Starscream nodded slowly. "Yes." He narrowed his eyes. "How-"

"Have you had any partners in the last two months?"

"Just one."

"Did you merge?"

"No."

"Did you have penetrative intercourse?"

"Yes."

"Were you using your valve for the entire time?"

"Yes."

"Did you use protection?"

Starscream hesitated. "No."

"Did he ejaculate inside of you?"

"He- might have."

Ratchet was writing things down. "Approximately how many times?"

Starscream squeezed his knees together. He suddenly didn't feel like smirking about his accomplishment. "22," he cringed.

Ratchet stopped writing. He looked at Starscream. "You let a mech ejaculate inside of you 22 times with no protection?"

"You're my doctor, you're not supposed to judge me."

"I'm allowed to judge you when you do something obviously irresponsible."

"That's not how that works. My gestation has been dead for almost two million years."

"Was the mech of a larger stature than you?"

Starscream went stiff. "What does that matter."

"There are a few things that could be happening. A reactivated gestation exhibits the same symptoms as being sparked. Normally this occurs when an excess amount of transfluid charge seeps into the gestation walls, but does not activate reproduction. So you may be exhibiting symptoms, but there's not a little bitlit in there. This is likely the case if your partner was of the same, or smaller stature. However, if your partner was much larger than you, then they produce a lot more transfluid every time they overload, which considering the duration of your coupling, and the amount of overloads, could easily result in a reactivated chamber as well as the development of a protoform."

Starscream started to feel sick. He groaned.

"I'm guessing the mech was bigger than you."

Starscream bit his talon. "He might have been."

"How much bigger?"

Starscream didn't answer, he just groaned.

"Or tell me who it was, I can make a fair assumption from that before running the additional tests."

Starscream covered his mouth with his hand. "It was Thunderclash."

Ratchet furrowed his brow. "I didn't quite hear you."

Starscream removed the hand from his mouth. His voice cracked. "Thunderclash."

Ratchet frowned. "Now's not the time for jokes."

Starscream shook his head. "I'm not joking. We live in the same building, we got drunk at the bar and went back to his place and-" he suddenly didn't feel like talking about the best one-night-stand he'd ever had.

Ratchet lowered the datapad to his lap. "Are you serious?"

Starscream nodded, pulling his lips between his teeth.

Ratchet took a deep vent and steadied his expression. "What do you want to do?"

"I want to take the tests and make sure, absolute sure, I am sparked."

"And if you are?"

"I'll- figure out what to do from there."

Ratchet took a scan of Starscream's spark. His chamber. A blood sample.

Everything came back positive.

Starscream was sparked.

As soon as it was confirmed, Starscream retracted inwards. He stared at a spot in the wall behind Ratchet and didn't hear a single thing he was saying.

"Starscream. Starscream?"

Starscream returned to reality. "Wha-"

"What would you like to do."

"I don't know."

"Do you want to keep it?"

"I don't know."

"Are you going to tell Thunderclash?"

"I don't know!"

Ratchet was silent for a moment. "Are you two in a relationship?"

"No." Starscream's voice was softer than he wanted it to be.

“Do you have anyone.”

Starscream suddenly felt like running away. “No.”

“Do you have a job?”

Starscream nodded.

“You have some time, it looks to be two months along. Gestation is 13 months, generally. The protoform doesn’t become viable until eight months.”

Starscream wrapped his arms around his middle and bowed forward.

“We have a counselor on staff if you need-”

“I just need to think.”

Ratchet only gave him a minute. “I do recommend talking to the sire. But the decision is yours.”

Starscream spoke before he could think. “He’ll tell me to terminate it.”

Ratchet drew back. “What? What in the world makes you think he would say that?”

Starscream barely knew. “He’s the greatest Autobot ever. He has an image to keep up. He can’t let a drunk fuck with a Decepticon ruin his rep.”

Ratchet’s brow went hard. “If that’s what you think, then you have a very distorted perception of Thunderclash.”

“Of course I fucking do, I used to be a Decepticon. And now I’m sparked with the bastard of Greatest Autobot of All Time. What do you think people will make of that? Do you know what they’ll say? They won’t say ‘look at how irresponsible Thunderclash was for not using protection,’ they’ll say, ‘look at what a fucking whore Starscream is,’ and then Thunderclash will keep his son under the table and give us enough money to survive but never talk about it.”

“You are very paranoid.”

“I know I am! But I’m not wrong!”

“I think you forget that we’re not on Cybertron anymore.”

Starscream scoffed. “As if the news wouldn’t reach Cybertron.”

“Maybe it would, but you don’t live there anymore. Thunderclash, the name, the person, the legend, it means nothing to 75% of the people who live here. And even those who it does mean something to, they came here because they were tired of the kinds of politics and faction feuds that persist on Cybertron. To them it’s just another new start.”

Starscream bit his lip. “What if he doesn’t want it.”

“From someone who knows him, I genuinely don’t believe that will be the case. But I also believe that if you didn’t want to keep it, he would respect that.”

Starscream replaced his hands on his middle. “I need to think.”

“You have the time. You don’t have to decide right now.”

Starscream got off the exam table with a stumble. He muttered a halfhearted thank you to Ratchet, and showed himself out. As soon as Starscream was outside the building he took out his phone and called Wheeljack. It was 3 in the morning on Cybertron. Wheeljack still answered.

As soon as Wheeljack said hello, Starscream burst into tears.

“Star? What’s going on? What’s that sound?”

“I’m crying,” Starscream sobbed. “I’ve never fucking cried in my entire life.”

“You’re what? You’re crying? What happened?”

“I’m sparked,” Starscream wailed. “I’m having Thunderclash’s baby.”

Wheeljack sighed. “Oh, Star...I hate to say I told ya so, but-”

Starscream’s tears disappeared, replaced with rage. “I know you told me so! You don’t have to rub it in my face!”

“Right, shouldn’t agitate the carrying mech.”

Starscream wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Then take some time to think about it. If you need I can come there-”

“No.” Starscream took a breath. “No. I have to do this myself.”

“No you don’t.”

“But I don’t need anyone to make a special trip. Whatever happens, I can handle it.”

“Have you told Thunderclash yet?”

“Thunderclash is on Cybertron.”

“Do you have his frequency?”

“I don’t want to call him on the phone to tell him this.”

“How long will he be gone?”

“Six months two months ago. So four months.”

“And you’re sure you don’t want to call him.”

“I’m sure.”

Wheeljack sighed. “If he’s on planet I could-”

“No. You are not going to tell him.”

There was a pause. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to tell all my Autobot friends about this anymore, huh?”

“I barely wanted to tell my doctor.”

“How did Ratchet react?”

“He was-- almost somber. But not condescending. Very professional.”

“Guess he’s gotten soft in his old age.”

“He did criticize me for letting someone come in me 22 times without protection.”

“I guess he’s not totally soft.”

Starscream talked to Wheeljack all the way back to the apartment. Wheeljack eventually had to go, he had work in the morning.

Starscream skipped the energon, he was too tired to think. He laid down in bed, wrapped his arms around his middle, and curled in on himself.

This feeling was-- strange.

It didn’t feel like anything was different. It didn’t feel as though there was a new-spark in his chest or a protoform in his gestation. Nothing felt physically different.

Starscream was admittedly curious whether or not that would change.

That curiosity was not enough to sway his decision in one way or the other.


	3. Chapter 3

As much as Thunderclash loved his home planet, he had to admit that whenever he was away from New Cybertron, he missed it. A fresh world with new people and opportunities was everything he had ever wanted during the war. New Cybertron was that dream, and he would do as much as he could to maintain it.

The first thing he did when he returned home was go to the goodie shop. It had been six months since his relations with Starscream, and he couldn’t get him off his mind. The harsh bitterness of his tone, the sharp, handsome, beautiful features of his body and face. Thunderclash had thought about the contours of his body for six months, when he went to bed he closed his eyes and saw the spectacular face moaning and twisting beneath him, overtaken by ecstasy.

Thunderclash did not consider himself an overly lustful mech. Never before had he pursued a bot strictly because of the sexual pleasure they gave him. Thunderclash thought there was much more to a relationship than that. He hoped to get to know Starscream better, maybe go on a few dates, take it slow, and build a relationship.

Starting with a small box of goodies as an ‘I’m happy to see you,’ gift.

He remembered the type Starscream liked from when they ran into each other. He figured goodies would be a good gift because Starscream almost always had a box in his hand when he came home (not that Thunderclash had been paying attention) which meant he liked them, and they were safe.

Thunderclash held the box in two hands as he stood in front of Starscream's door. He cleaned his throat and fixed his Stace, and hesitated before knocking. It was the weekend, so Starscream should have been home. He was a homebody.

Thunderclash straightened when he heard the distinct clack of Starscream’s heeled pedes. A couple seconds after they stopped there was a whispered swear.

“Uh, what do you want?” Starscream called through the door.

Thunderclash couldn’t think for a moment. “Uh-” he stuttered, he almost never stuttered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I just returned from Cybertron. I’ve been thinking a lot, I was hoping you and I could discuss a few things.”

Starscream was silent for what felt like a long time. Thunderclash leaned forward to see if he could hear anything going on behind the door.

“Yes, we do have a few things to discuss.” Starscream said.

Thunderclash chewed his lip. The spark in his chest fluttered. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt nervous about something, literally anything. “Are you available now? Or would you prefer I come back later?”

“You can come in now. But-” a shaking vent, in and out. “I’m going to ask you to do something sort of weird, but just go with it, alright?”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to unlock the door, you count to ten, then come inside and sit down on the living room couch.”

Thunderclash did not hesitate. “Of course. I can do that.”

“Okay. I’m unlocking a door.” The little light above the key swipe turned green. Thunderclash counted to ten, then pressed the manual door button to let himself in. He stepped into the silent apartment. Starscream was nowhere to be found. Thunderclash went to the living room and sat down on the couch.

Starscream’s voice came from the bedroom. “Are you sitting down?”

“I am.”

“Okay, just-- stay there for a moment.”

Thunderclash sat silently in the empty living room. Considering Starscream’s distinct personality, Thunderclash had expected more from the apartment. Pictures, decorations, paint, something. But the apartment was bare, as if Starscream had moved in and then done nothing with it.

The click of the bedroom door opening drew Thunderclash’s attention. Starscream stepped out into the living room with the pillow from his bed pressed to his front. As soon as they locked eyes Starscream turned on a heel and returned to the bedroom, loudly declaring. “Fuck!”

Thunderclash sat up a little straighter. “Is everything alright?”

“No!”

Thunderclash started to stand. “Is there anything I can do to-”

“No, just stay there!” At the end a small. “Please.”

Thunderclash sat back down.

Starscream remimerged from the bedroom, this time waking backwards. “Okay, close your eyes.”

Thunderclash did so.

“Are they closed?”

“They are.”

Starscream took a deep vent. “Okay. You can open your eyes.”

Thunderclash had not seen Starscream in six months. Despite this, he recognized that his wings and armour were slightly thicker, and especially recognized that the outward curve of his midsection had not been there before. The bump was subtle, but noticeable. As soon as Thunderclash recognized the implication of this, his eyes grew wide.

Starscream placed his hands on his belly, refusing to look at him. “I don’t want anything,” he said quickly. “I just thought you should know.”

Thunderclash ran through a hundred situations in his head, a hundred different responses, and for some stupid reason, he said. “Are you sure it’s mine?”

Starscream pointed to the door. “Get out.”

Then Thunderclash realized what he said and shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“I haven’t had sex in a thousand years and you ask if it’s yours, are you kidding me? Do you think I’m a whore?”

Thunderclash waved his hands. “No, I don’t think that at all, that’s not what I meant to say.”

“Then why the fuck did you say it?”

“I apologize, I’ve had so many people claim to be having my sparkling over the years, it was a knee jerk response. But I know I had sex with you.”

“I certainly hope so! You overloaded almost two dozen times!”

Thunderclash glanced off in thought. “Was it really that many?”

“22. I counted.”

“Do you always-”

“I would like to stay on topic.”

Thunderclash sat up straight. “Yes, Right. Of course.”

“Now, I’m not asking anything of you. You can go off and still be Thunderclash, in all your glory. I won’t make a thing out of it, but I do plan on keeping it. I won’t ask for money, if you would like to visit sometimes I’m alright with that, but if not I’m alright with that too-”

“Wait, wait, hold on. What are you talking about?”

Starscream blinked at him. “I’m talking about the sparkling.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Starscream squinted his brow. “I- what part don’t you understand?”

“These things you’re saying.”

“What part?”

“About visiting, and keeping it, and making a ‘thing’ out of it-”

“I just mean I won’t be one of those people who uses the baby as any sort of media leverage, on Cybertron, or among the Autobots. So you won’t have to worry about any of that-”

“I never expected-- politics don’t work here like they did on Cybertron. But what do you mean you’re not asking anything of me?”

“I mean money, or time, or anything at all. I just thought you should know that the sparkling I am carrying is yours.”

“Why are you not asking anything of me?”

Starscream glanced one way, then the next, then back to Thunderclash’s face. “Because it was a one-night-stand? We’re not in a relationship. I naturally assumed you wouldn’t want anything to do with me or the sparkling-”

“Why is that so naturally assumed?”

Starscream shrugged. “Just- for the reasons mentioned. You’re you, it was a drunk fuck, we’re not in a relationship-”

“We could be.”

Starscream paused. He furrowed his brow and shook his head. “No, we couldn’t. You don’t like me, I’m just a good lay. I was the best thing around your spike in thousands of years, of course you’re going to think we could be in a relationship. Not to mention the dormant sire programming that probably just woke up-”

“I don’t think that’s it-”

“I’m mean, rude, anti-social, violent at the best of times, anxious, depressed, and a whole lot of other things. You do not like me. And I am the last person on any planet you want to raise a sparkling with.”

“I disagree.”

“Why!?”

“Because you are more than your negative traits. I want to explore you for everything you are.”

Starscream threw his head back and turned on a heel, away from the unbearable sentiment. “You are so insufferable,” he groused. He turned back around. “I’m telling you, this is not something you want.” He spread his arms out. “I have already prepared myself to do this on my own. You’re ruining everything!”

“How am I-” Thunderclash’s expression dropped. “Starscream, I want to be part of our sparkling’s life.” He stood and took a step forward and placed his hands on the curve of Starscream’s belly.

Starscream shoved his hands off. “Don’t touch me,” he snapped.

Thunderclash pulled back. “I apologize, I-”

“You think because I’m carrying your sparkling you can touch me however you want? You can’t.”

“I understand that, I’m sorry.”

“And I am very turned on right now, so that did not help!”

Thunderclash hesitated. “If that’s something you need help with-”

Starscream spoke through his teeth. “You’re not helping. You’re just being irritating.”

Thunderclash’s lip flattened into a hard line. “I think we should discuss this further.”

“I need you to leave, I can’t talk about this right now.”

Thunderclash nodded. “I understand. I’ve come on too strong. I will be in my apartment when you are ready.”

Starscream didn’t move. Thunderclash showed himself out.

Barely five minutes after he returned to his apartment, someone knocked on the door. Starscream stood there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lip pouting.

"I'm too horny to think straight."

Thunderclash cocked a brow. "I can help with that."

Starscream elected to ride him, and Thunderclash was perfectly fine with that. From this angle he could see everything clearly. The beautiful face, body, bump, which awakened some strange, deep, primal urge within him.

Starscream rode him through five overloads of his own and seven of Thunderclash's. They did it until Starscream collapsed on top of him, fast asleep.

Unsure what to do, Thunderclash didn't move. He waited for his spike to put itself away, and let Starscream sleep for however long he was going to sleep. Thunderclash took a work datapad out of his subspace and got a few things done in the three hours Starscream was out.

As soon as Starscream stirred, Thunderclash discarded the datapad and gave Starscream his full attention.

“Can I use your shower?” Starscream muttered, sitting up.

“Of course.” Thunderclash sat up as Starscream climbed off.

“Thank you.”

The shower was relatively quick, only about ten minutes. It gave Thunderclash some time to think about what he was going to say, and what Starscream had already told him. Maybe they would not enter into a relationship, but that didn’t mean Thunderclash had no interest in being supportive of Starscream and their sparkling. Especially now, during the sparkling’s development, carriers needed companionship and compassion. Their condition was uncomfortable and cumbersome and exhausting. The least Thunderclash could do was exist at his side, especially considering this was at least partially his fault.

“You should clean yourself up.”

Thunderclash was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Starscream’s voice.

“You’re a mess.”

Thunderclash looked down at himself. He hadn’t even noticed the wet stickiness covering his codpiece and thighs. Without saying anything he removed himself from the bed and walked past Starscream to the washroom. He took a quick shower, only washing away the mess of their coupling.

When Thunderclash emerged Starscream was not in the bedroom. He was found making himself at home in the living room, flipping through one of Thunderclash’s datapads.

"You have odd taste in books," Starscream said, squinting at something on the screen. "For someone who encourages change you sure have a lot of literature about military strategy."

"A hobby," Thunderclash sat down in the chair across from him. "The military was a large part of my life."

Starscream muttered through his teeth. "Yet here I am."

"I do welcome change. I'd like to think I harbor it."

Starscream shut down the datapad. "If what I'm harboring is any fair assessment, I might say you do."

"We need to discuss the sparkling."

"I know."

"I would like to be there for you during this trying time."

"I don't want you to be."

"Why not?"

"Because I find everything about it irritating enough and you're already a suffocating presence."

"That didn't seem your opinion while we were making it."

"That's when I was drunk and horny and not carrying. Also it was supposed to be a one time thing. It was a relief when you told me you were going to Cybertron because that meant you weren't going to bother me for six months."

Thunderclash opened his mouth to speak but was promptly cut off.

"And yes, I did actually think that despite how good the sex was."

Thunderclash dropped his original point. Instead he said. "I would like to respect your decision, but I can't-"

"Shocking."

"The sparkling you carry is mine. I want to do everything in my power to make sure it, and its carrier, are being taken care of."

Starscream crossed his arms and legs and leaned forward slightly. "You just want to police me."

"That's not true."

"What do you think I've done these past six months? Drink and smoke and put myself in danger?"

"I didn't mean to imply that I didn't trust you. You're a smart person, and considering you decided to keep it I imagine you've done everything in your power to take care of it. But that does not change my position."

"Why do you care, anyway?"

Thunderclash was taken back. He frowned. "I don't understand."

"You just seem the type to blame this entire situation on me and see this as a burden instead of a responsibility. I'm a former Decepticon, you're the greatest person ever, what do you care that you accidentally knocked me up?"

Thunderclash answered slowly. "Because-- you're carrying my sparkling."

"That's not a reason."

"What do you mean that's not a reason?"

"I mean people get accidentally sparked all the time and most of the time the sire just goes in his merry way. Though for people in your position there's usually some under the table things that go on like contracts and legal agreements to keep quiet about the bastard, or some form of payment, but no legitimate interaction with the carrier or sparkling-"

"What sort of life have you lived?"

Starscream's wings flared. "What?"

"Why does it seem you assume the worst of people, and that all people will conduct themselves in the way you're describing."

Starscream squinted one eye and sneered. "Because they do?" He said it as if it were obvious. "That's how people in power operate. They can't let others know they fuck. That's sort of a joke, but you know what I'm getting at."

"I am not in a position of power."

"Don't sound so naive. You have a lot of power. You have influence, and followers and the pedestal people place you on. You have more power than Optimus Prime himself. Or have you never heard the way they talk about you?"

"I have. But it is all talk, all perception. I pride myself in my work and heroism, but I do not see myself above anyone."

"But they do. That's my point."

"But I don't. We're not talking about them, we're talking about me. I care for the sparkling you carry, and I want to care for you, though you seem reluctant to let me."

Starscream narrowed his eyes. "You think I'm wrong about you."

"I know you are."

The tension left Starscream's frame. He uncrossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. "Alright. Prove it."

"Excuse me?"

"Prove it. Tell people. Tell Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus, and any of your other close Autobot friends. Tell them you're having a sparkling, since you claim to care so much about it, this would be exciting news for a sire-to-be wouldn't it?"

"It would not be difficult."

Starscream cocked a brow. "And when they ask who the carrier is?"

Thunderclash's throat tightened. He took in a vent as if to speak, but nothing came out.

Starscream stood up. "That's what I thought."

Thunderclash didn't move until Starscream was gone. Thunderclash opened the door and called down the stairs at Starscream's back.

"I will do it."

Starscream paused. He looked over his shoulder. "Sure you will." Then he returned to his apartment.

* * *

Thunderclash had to make frequent trips back to Cybertron, generally. He left Starscream alone for almost an entire month, knowing that until he proved he was not like those before him, Starscream would not accept his offer of support.

On his next trip back to Cybertron, Thunderclash called upon his two most powerful colleagues and asked them for a drink at Maccadams. With both of them overwhelmed with political work, they immediately agreed, citing that they desperately needed a break.

Whenever Thunderclash returned to Cybertron he met with Ultra Magnus. Most of the time it was under the guise of trying to get him to return to New Cybertron, where he had settled for a few years before returning to Cybertron when the ships started to arrive. He has been the one to write the systems that accounted for everyone, and create some of the laws.

Ultra Magnus insisted that Cybertron needed him more, and that New Cybertron was safe in Rodimus and the crew's servos, Thunderclash's especially.

The bar was not too busy when they arrived. Thunderclash selected a booth for them, away from everyone else. The last thing he needed was any curious ears hearing what he was about to say to his colleagues.

Though, being nervous about that would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?

Maybe he was ashamed. But that wasn’t something he was ready to admit to himself yet.

Thunderclash sat down on one side, forcing the other two to sit on the other side. All three of them got extra large steins, (Ultra Magnus’ was filled with plain energon, though this was never mentioned) and sipped in intermediate silence. None of them seemed to have much to talk about, not even Optimus, who often liked to relay the frustrations of gaining and keeping political power.

The last thing Thunderclash wanted to talk about at that moment was politics.

Optimus was just beginning to tell them a story about the last delegate meeting when Thunderclash interrupted him.

“I have some exciting news,” the phrasing felt sour in his mouth, he knew it was a farce. This news was nerve-wracking, especially here, on Cybertron. Back on New Cybertron maybe it was exciting news.

Now all of the attention was on him, and for the first time in his life Thunderclash felt squeamish under it.

“About New Cybertron?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“It is...on New Cybertron, yes. But it’s nothing political.”

Optimus took a sip of his drink, but his gaze didn’t waver. “What is it? I’m excited to hear about what goes on with New Cybertron.”

“It’s a personal thing,” Thunderclash said. “A personal development.”

That seemed to get their attention, they both sat up a little straighter.

Thunderclash felt as though he was being interrogated. This seating arrangement was less ideal than he originally thought. But Thunderclash still wanted to see both of their faces clearly when he told them the news.

He wanted to see if Starscream was right.

Thunderclash put his drink down and sat up straight and cleared his throat. He forced himself to look at them, instead of anywhere else as he was tempted to do. He spoke before he convinced himself not to.

“I’m going to be a sire.”

Optimus choked on his drink. He put down his glass and punched himself in the chest. “You- you’re going to what?”

“I am going to be a sire.”

“I didn’t even know you were in a relationship.”

Now Thunderclash looked away. “I- am not. Yet. Technically...I’m working on it.”

They both looked at Ultra Magnus, who hadn’t moved and hadn’t spoken.

“Magnus?” Thunderclash asked.

“Have you known the carrier for long?”

Thunderclash had never been tempted to lie before. But something about the way Ultra Magnus asked that question made him consider it.

“No. Not long. He’d only been on planet about a month when we-- when this happened.”

“Are you sure it’s yours?”

Optimus followed up. “This type of thing has happened before.”

“Yes, I’m sure it’s mine,” Thunderclash said. “I am sure of it.”

“How are you so sure of it?” Ultra Magnus asked.

“Because I hadn’t had sex until then, not for a few thousand years.”

“But he could have had sex with someone else.”

“The timeline is right for it to be mine.”

Optimus considered his drink with a skeptical brow. “Just pay him what he wants and get on with it. What has he asked of you?”

Thunderclash stared at the table. “He hasn’t asked anything of me. He actually asked me to leave him alone.”

Optimus hummed. “That seems even more suspicious. He might try to use it as media leverage.”

“He lives on New Cybertron.”

“And the media here would still pay him generously for outing you as the sparkling’s sire.”

“Why would it be outing me? I am the sparkling’s sire.”

Ultra Magnus said. “Optimus is right. You have to be careful about this situation. If he’s already told you he doesn’t want to be in a relationship, he probably has different motivation.”

“It may not even be yours,” Optimus added. “He could have had sex with a few mechs within the week.”

Thunderclash furrowed his brow. “Why are you two talking like this?” It came out louder than he intended, in the authoritative voice he used as a captain or a general.

Optimus and Ultra Magnus were not taken back as badly as a normal mech would have been, but they were still taken back.

“The sparkling is mine, and I want to care for it. The carrier doesn’t want leverage, or money, the only reason I know at all is because he was decent enough to tell me about it. And after he told me about it he wanted nothing to do with me.”

“It’s a colonist isn’t it?” Optimus assumed. “They don’t have the same politics as we do, but I assure you, as soon as they catch on-”

“It’s Starscream.”

For a solid minute no one spoke.

“You should have told us it was a joke at the start,” Optimus said. “We were genuinely worried-”

“It wasn’t a joke. The carrier is Starscream”

Optimus put on his angry voice. “How could that possibly-”

“We were both drunk.”

Optimus leaned back. “The snake,” he spat. “He got you drunk-”

“If anything, I got him drunk. He was going to have two drinks, and I offered to buy him more. Which he was extremely reluctant to accept, by the way. He was not welcome to the idea of me buying him anything.”

“You must file for custody as soon as the sparkling arrives.”

“What-”

Ultra Magnus and Optimus spoke around eachother, going back and forth between the two of them.

“I can write up some legal advice if you need. I can recommend a good lawyer."

“You should coerce Starscream back to Cybertron so our system can give the sparkling to you-”

“I could be your lawyer then.”

“We would hardly even need a legal team, we could easily make the case for child endangerment if the carrier is Starscream.”

Thunderclash put on his Leader voice again. “I did not come here to ask for your advice,” he scowled. “And what you’re saying is despicable. I can’t believe you two. I came here to tell you that I am going to be a sire, and I am happy about that, and this is your response?”

Optimus spoke in a somber tone. “We are just looking out for your best interest.”

“Well don’t.” Thunderclash stood, placed his portion of the shanix on the table and left the bar.

He was tempted to hop right on the next transport and go back to New Cybertron. But as soon as he walked out of the bar the weight of his colleagues' attitudes began to weigh on him, and he suddenly felt very tired. He returned to his hotel and fell asleep with images of Starscream in his mind.

He acknowledged that the idea of Starscream smiling, and cuddling beside him, and letting him rub his belly, was a delusion, and an image of Starscream concocted by Thunderclash’s mind. But this fact made it no less comforting.

Thunderclash did not consider himself naive. He had seen horrors enough to know that bad things happen to everyone, and everyone could do bad things. He could, however, admit that he sometimes tricked himself into thinking that people were better than they were. That Cybertron’s politicians were not all bad (and this he still believed). But he supposed that there was a way things often went, which he chose to ignore.

A prime example would be his exchange with Starscream and his exchange with Magnus and Optimus. Everything Starscream said had been correct, and Thunderclash refused to listen because he was not the type of bot to do as Starscream had described. Because of this, he failed to see that what Starscream had described was often the way of things.

Somehow, this made him feel spiteful. As if he had to love, and not be ashamed of Starscream strictly to spite Optimus and Magnus, and anyone else who operated the same way they did. Or at least thought in the same way they did. Whether or not Magnus and Optimus would actually do as they’d advised was unclear.

Maybe they, too, reacted the way they did because it was the way of things.

Thunderclash didn’t dwell on it. He returned the images of Starscream to his mind and fell asleep to that.

This time, when he thought about it, he had no shame.


End file.
